


fill in the silence

by mungkkul



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Break Up, Is this angst, M/M, Post-Break Up, im sorry, lec ver and rai are mentioned, not fluff tho, ok i have no idea, seb is retired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 06:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20756168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mungkkul/pseuds/mungkkul
Summary: But every time he’d tried to tell Lewis the words died at the back of his throat.





	fill in the silence

”What about us?”

The question, made a year ago, echoes through Sebastian’s mind, Lewis’ pleading voice just as vivid, but the silence that followed don’t follow the record. Instead, what he could have said as an answer and all the things that could’ve played out differently afterwards make the retired driver’s stomach churn with regret.

Yes, he left the question unanswered, but his omission was enough of a reply for Lewis. If Sebastian closes his eyes hard enough he can still trace the outline of his face in that moment, the disbelief on his features, the exasperation on his eyes.

The record continues playing on Vettel’s head. Five seconds go in silence, and then ten, and finally Lewis shakes his head, scoffing.

“I don’t know why I thought I could expect more, anyway.” He shoots a last glare at Sebastian, and it hurts like a thousand cuts because he knows what’s coming.

Sebastian still remembers how strong Lewis’ shoulders looked under the cadet blue cotton shirt when he turned away, and the amount of intense, terrifying feelings built up on his stomach when he stormed through the door.

“Lewis!” He calls, but Lewis is gone, door slammed shut behind him.

He opens his eyes, back to the present.

After a whole life in search of better results, better lap times, poles, wins, championships, there’s no purpose. And there’s no Lewis.

He’s aware some of his new habits aren’t healthy, but what’s the point of minding how his body is going to react if there’s no reason to be fit anymore?

It took him a year to make that decision, and by the end of the season he was adamant.

The news were out in the open on the post race conference of a race he won in the 2020’s season, Canada – ironically. He had Charles and Lewis on each side of him.

“Obviously winning feels great, but we need to focus on the rest of the season, since… I don’t plan to come back next year and, fortunately, I might finish it off with good results.”

He regretted the words spoken the moment he felt Lewis’ calloused hand grab his shoulder, a violent grip that made sure to leave a bruise as a memory. Sebastian couldn’t dare to stare back at the eyes that bore holes into his skin, asking, pleading, demanding more than to know about his decision at the same time as the rest of the world.

At least Sebastian was given a while more to answer the journalists’ question, delaying the conversation he knew the two of them would have later on. The whole room was taken aback by the sudden news, but not as much as the six championships winner, whose voice became raspy and irregular all of a sudden, his short answers a surprising event by itself, and he didn’t touch nor looked at Vettel the rest of the conference.

The Ferrari team and Kimi knew. They supported him, hugged him, told him things wouldn’t be the same on the grid without him and it was good to hear.

But every time he’d tried to tell Lewis the words died at the back of his throat and he convinced himself to enjoy one more night on his embrace, tasting his skin and tattooing him with his lovebites before disclosing it and putting at risk so many years of _them. _Because Lewis would be angry, he’d try to change his mind, he’d do everything under his power to stop Sebastian from leaving.

They began in Formula One together, they promised to retire together as well, Sebastian knew that, it’s just that Lewis had much more on his way and in hindsight, he was not wrong. He has just won his 99th race. He’s above Senna, above Vettel himself, and above Schumacher, and there are still so many ambitions to be fulfilled, and they’re so close to him he couldn’t possibly have retired with Sebastian.

Maybe that’s why he was speechless when Lewis stormed inside his hotel room uninvited, hours after that press conference. He wasn’t shouting but Sebastian would feel better if he was, because the amount of disappointment on his voice was too much to bear with.

“How could you keep that away from me, Sebastian? I thought we had a deal, I thought we were honest with each other!” His shoulders slumped and he sighed. _“What about us?"_

_ \+ + +_

The 2021 Great Britain Grand Prix is won by Lewis Hamilton, the hundredth of his career. It’s more special than anybody could have predicted, he’s winning at home. He hops out of the car shaking, tears stream down his eyes because _he did it. _He’s engulfed by a small silver crowd, he’s hugged and crushed and kissed and when he realizes he’s on someone’s shoulders and he lifts his steering wheel up in the air and there’s so much going on inside his mind right now that he’s sure all of this are going to be hard to remember in a few months.

In the cooldown room, he’s hugged and congratulated by Max and Charles, who definitely didn’t make this win an easy one, and they sound genuinely happy for his achievement. Brilliant children, they are. Going places, for sure.

He checks on his weight, drinks a bottle of water whole in seconds, and watches what’s happening outside the track through the screen. The red, white and blue contaminated an enormous part of the crowd and not just because it’s the GB Grand Prix but because he is British. His face is everywhere, children wearing Mercedes’ caps are everywhere, huge signs being held at by at least a dozen people read _LEWIS HAMILTON’S 100TH WIN,_ and sometimes he spots some cheesy lines that make him laugh with tenderness. 

“That’s a record hard to beat.” The voice behinds him makes his smile vanish from his face, and he’s frozen in the spot.

He hears Charles and Max shake his hand and exchange pleasantries, he hears him praising their performance and then another person opens the door and rushes the drivers to come to the podium, but don’t wait for Lewis, who’s now alone with Sebastian Vettel, a year later.

He turns to face him, and he’s so different. So much more different than he remembers. Of course, they grew up together, Lewis saw Sebastian change his haircut thousands of times, watched his smile shift from childlike to just amicable, heard his voice get firmer, his accent less noticeable, his skin more mature. But they never spent more than a couple of months apart, and Sebastian doesn’t look like himself at all, or is it Lewis who grew used to not think about him?

“I wonder how many years until someone wins 101 times.” Sebastian continues, filling in the silence.

Lewis wishes he had filled in the silence a year ago.

“What are you doing here?”

“Seeing you.” He shrughs.

Lewis missed his smile, but not this one that doesn’t make the skin around his eyes crinkle.

“You flew all the way here?”

“You talk as if I had never done that before. And as if I actually live that far away.”

Lewis looks around, painfully conscious of the solitary camera staring at them. A special memory flashes before his eyes, Sebastian knocking on his door in the middle of the night, a bottle of expensive scotch in hands and a blue scarf that Lewis keeps on the bottom of his drawer to this day, ever since they fell apart. He desperately tries to get rid of it, unsuccessful. They listened to old music and got drunk together, and Seb told him he was leaving Red Bull.

“Can we talk?” Sebastian pleads. “Out of here?”

Lewis’ first instinct is to say no. He deserves to party, to revel in his achievement, to get hammered and dance with strangers until dawn. Nobody should attempt to numb his happiness, not today, and yet he’s giving Sebastian the full power to do as he pleases, sending him his hotel address and the number of his room via text message, and it’s been a year since he last opened that window, he makes a point of not roaming over the old messages, but his eyes fix on the last time an _i love you_ made adrenaline course through his veins like racing does. Quickly, he puts the phone back on the table where the empty water bottles are, knowing someone from his team will secure it for him while he’s on the podium ceremony.

“I have to go now.”

He makes a move to the door, but it feels wrong to do so. Sebastian is here. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been or why it’s been this long, what matters is that he is here, and Lewis is pulling him into the tightest hug he can possibly manage, feeling how surprised and hesitant Seb feels before circling him with his arms with the same yearning and relief.

“I missed you.” He murmurs.

He can practically hear Sebastian’s grin.

“I missed you more.”

Yes. Lewis for sure has been blessed.

**Author's Note:**

> hellooo  
this is my first f1 fic and it was written almost a month ago when all that f1 blogs talked about was how iTs tHe eNd Of ThE rOaD fOr vEtTel hEs dEf ReTiRiNg lol of course, i let it settle a while before going back to it (and if it sucks now, be aware that it sucked worse before) and WELL WELL WELL our grazzie ragazzi is back!!
> 
> if you spot any mistakes, please let me know.


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